


One Seed Can Grow a Forest

by naegiriko



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, F/M, Mating Rituals, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character(s), Oasis (Fallout 3), Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naegiriko/pseuds/naegiriko
Summary: Alternative, sexy take on the practices of the Treeminders in the minor quest “Oasis.”
Relationships: Male Lone Wanderer/Branchtender Maple
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	One Seed Can Grow a Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at 2 am on day 5 of self-isolation, so be kind in the comments :P this is my first fic written during this weird time, there may be more.

The Lone Wanderer came awake slowly, like he had sludged through mud to regain consciousness. Images began to flit across his eyes, first warm, yellow light, then fuzzy halos of green leaves. A brown shape was crouched in front of him, and he struggled to grasp its outline amidst the grogginess.

•

The previous evening, the Lone Wanderer had stumbled into Oasis with a wounded shoulder and a severe migraine. His combat armor was ripped through; ammo spent. He had spoken with Tree Father Birch and agreed to meet the Treeminders’ god, exhausted and expecting caps for the job. The last thing he remembered was standing in the gazebo, surrounded by smiling Treeminders. The cool summer wind whistled through the trees. He could hear crickets chirping. Life hummed in the dense forest. He was incapable of processing its beauty, too worn and taken aback by the irregularity. He approached the purification basin to drink the ritual sap and slipped away. 

•

The Lone Wanderer realized that the pain in his shoulder had completely left him, and was neatly cleaned and bandaged. A buttery, sweet-smelling salve had been applied to the wound. He looked over to see that the torn sleeve of his armor had been repaired with another thicker fiber, presumably the same material as the Treeminders’ robes. 

As the Lone Wanderer adjusted to his surroundings, a singular feeling began to materialize in his body - one that he did not expect. His arousal was bubbling inside him, a heavy feeling not unlike the one in his head. His mind was empty save for a deep relaxation that left him immobilized.

The shape in front of him became more detailed and took the definite form of a young woman - Branchtender Maple. The Lone Wanderer looked down to see he was completely naked, his cock red and throbbing between his legs. Just as quickly as she had formalized in his view, the woman took it into her mouth and began to suck. Pleasure surged through his body. It was like all of his physical sensation was centered around his penis, and the rest of his body was floating in a vat of butter and honey. The woman’s mouth was warm, wet, and somehow sweet, as if his senses of touch and taste had intermingled.

“I’m glad you’re awake so that I can begin the purification ritual.” 

Her voice tasted sweet, too, like something he had never experienced - wet beads of honeysuckle sap on his tongue.

“The what?” were the only two syllables the Lone Wanderer could muster. He was desperate for more of her mouth on him, but not in the way that demanded he buck his hips into her. Instead, it was somehow faith in the pleasure that she would give, which drew out his arousal and transformed it into something more powerful. 

“The process of entering Oasis requires you to receive the holy sap, which is necessary for your body to accept the blessing of purification. It draws away the toxins of the Wasteland. Normally, a visitor’s seed is cast away into the soil. But yours will have a special usage.” 

“My seed? You mean, my come? Wait, what are you going to do with it?” 

At this point, the Lone Wanderer didn’t actually care why, what, and how. He just wanted her to suck his cock, now. Not that he could do anything about it if she didn’t.

“Leaf Mother Laurel has been having visions of a powerful Outsider, one who could benefit Oasis. She has requested that I take your seed inside myself, so that I can grow the chosen child of the Wasteland. They will rescue Oasis from its ills.”

After she said this, Maple shed her hood and robes. The Lone Wanderer could see the toned expanse of her body and the light triangle of hair at the apex of her legs. His cock pulsed at the sight of it, yearning to see her legs spread apart. Her breasts swung free, pink nipples pointed in the morning breeze. 

He had no way of processing the situation in his drugged mind, nor even in a rational one. She - and her surrounding environment, the fertile land and enclave of life - had complete sway over him. His body was built to react to hers. 

Branchtender Maple continued the ritual. Her lips wrapped tightly around him, taking special care at the head of his cock. Her tongue was agile at his tip, and the Lone Wanderer could not prevent the sounds coming out of him. They joined the orchestra of the forest.

Her hands rubbed at the inside of his thighs while she adorned his cock with kisses, before returning diligently to sucking it. This time she took it all; down to the base. There was a solid feeling inside him, a treasure that was waiting to be unlocked. When he felt his cock hit the back of her throat, the feeling almost came to the surface, and he whined.

Branchtender Maple looked as if she was enjoying the ritual. Her attentive green eyes watched the Outsider as he struggled through the slow mess of his arousal, unable to articulate his pleasure to himself. It must have felt like a barrage of ecstasy, she thought, and briefly wished herself in his place. She felt wetness accumulate between her legs, titillated by the ease at which his cock would certainly penetrate her, join her to him, allow her to take the seed she wanted so dearly.

Wordlessly she climbed atop his hips and grasped his cock to guide it inside of her. When the tip entered, the Lone Wanderer just watched her, his pleasure on a delayed response system. When she had fully sheathed him inside herself, he let out a throaty groan and eyes fluttered back into his head. It didn’t take long for her to pick up a rhythm - it was something that she found herself accustomed to easily in this place. The swaying of tree branches, the Treeminders’ midnight dances, the rushing water of creeks - these were all elements of movement she brought into her ritualistic lovemaking.

Maple moved slowly at first, gyrating her hips and giving him a taste of her. She felt her walls clench tightly around him, unwilling to let him go, vying for her own enjoyment. Truthfully, she was surprised the Outsider had not released yet. He was only 20, with a clean-shaved face and an intelligent curiosity. Yet there was a part of him holding something together, resisting a primal urge; withholding. It was this strength that she assumed had allowed him to survive in the Wasteland for so long. 

The Lone Wanderer was limp underneath her. All the tension resided in his cock, the potential energy soon to reach its peak. It continued to twitch hungrily in search of release and more, more, more. Branchtender Maple did her best to satisfy its demands, moving faster until her hips slammed into his and the animated sound of their sex filled the forest. Although she was supposed to treat the ritual as a necessity, it became a treat. Maple relished in every movement, especially when he was fully inside of her, making pressure build within her. Unwillingly, she moaned wantonly at the sudden pleasure. The Lone Wanderer was prompted to move for the first time, and his hips fluttered upwards for the briefest moment, his body moving of its own accord. The effects of the purification sap were wearing off, and would soon grant him full lucidity again.

“Please, take it from me,” the Lone Wanderer panted. He was reaching the point of frenzy. He needed to let go, and she needed the physical manifestation of it. Furthermore, his sounds were likely reaching past this hidden grove of Oasis. Branchtender Maple would likely be teased by her fellow tribesmen about the ritual, although they knew it was her responsibility. 

“Take it, take my seed,” he begged. His need for release hung in the air like wasteland fog; palpable. 

“Do it, Outsider, make me a child!” She shouted. Her hips crashed into his a final time. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, eyes screwed shut as she drained him. The Lone Wanderer let out a final cry as his cock pulsed the last drops of seed into her. 

The Lone Wanderer did not get up. Instead, he watched her dismount and stand up, her slit open and dripping with him. Maple’s face was pink with exertion and the soft turn of her lips was painted with satisfaction. 

“Thank you, Outsider,” she declared. “The ritual is complete.” 

•

After the Lone Wanderer attended to Oasis’ problem, Branchtender Maple met him with a gift at the gate. He looked to see if she was glowing, if the sun followed her even into the shade, if the corners of her eyes sparkled when she spoke. He noticed something different. He marked his Pip-Boy - he would be back.

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to be the queen of weird sex situations involving really minor fallout NPCs. Can I be that? I’ll work on it.


End file.
